


Alternate Heaven

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: BDSM, M/M, mild dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr suggestion</p>
<p>Anonymous asked you:<br/>guardian stridercest w/ dave topping? (bonus if it includes bdsm)</p>
<p>Alpha!Dave and Beta!Bro glitch together for a short time, and make the best of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternate Heaven

The room smelled like old whiskey and stale cigarette smoke, more pouring out into the open air the longer the two of them sat there. Though, saying that was incorrect. Bro was reclined on the mattress with his arms trapped over and behind his head, bound at the forearm, a cigarette dangling casually from his mouth. 

Dave was.. Was it normal to call him Dave? He sure wasn’t the squirt, but there was no denying they were somehow one and the same. Maybe something to do with their souls, or their hearts. Something was linking them, despite their physical differences.

The Dave that Dirk knew was short and narrow hipped, sassy and sweet lipped. Every inch of that tiny frame, he knew by touch alone, amused by the fact that despite his best efforts, the runt never seemed to put on the inches. Just as well, really. They both loved the way he fit into the crook of his arm, loved the way he could be picked up and hauled around without a second thought.

This Dave, though. He was different. Obviously, he’d seem some intense shit in his time, narrow face ragged and weary. He was handsome, no doubt about it, day old stubble along his jaw, mingling with the dusting of freckles on his cheekbones and nose. Long spidery fingers, rough with callous, had held him down as the ropes were tied. 

Everything about him was long and thin, narrow waist and spindly legs, luring someone in thinking he was weak before shutting them down in a manner that was almost casual. Carefree. He had already known he was going to beat Dirk in their short strife, had said as much as he lit a black cigarette with a silver lighter and let him get close before returning each strike expertly.

This man wasn’t used to just strifing, training himself, acting like a ninja. 

This man was the real fucking deal, battle hardened and quick to react to any implied threat. Quick to show he was having none of Bro’s bullshit, no matter how skilled he was. It just wasn’t the same as being on the field for as long as he had been, facing daily threats.

They both agreed that they weren’t the kid that the other remembered. 

They both agreed they had no idea how this was happening, how they had ended up in the familiar apartment together, not knowing what lay ahead of them, or even when one of them would blip out of the glitchy atmosphere and end up somewhere else in this godforsaken game.

They both agreed that this made it somehow okay to continue what they were doing, crushing each other’s mouths together when the cigarettes finally went out, when the whiskey hit deep enough to their cores to make everything seem like the best idea. 

This Dave, apparently, was not as much of a kink hound as Dirk was. He was relatively tame, having an interest in shibari and bdsm, a bit of a thing for blood. Dirk was, obviously, open to anything. 

So long as he earned it.

The fact he was already in ropes showed who had earned what, back arching up off the mattress when he drew nearer, straining to raise his hips higher as the belt and zipper came undone, the cloth slipping down to his ankles. The compliments to his dick were enjoyed, prompting him to thrust at the air, catch the light on the row of barbells more clearly. The mouth that covered them hotly moments later was enjoyed even further.  
Every strong lick was making Dirk quake, fighting to keep himself calm, in control of himself. Hopes for that flew out the fucking window when that blonde head rose up, broad shoulders catching beneath his knees, hiking him unceremoniously into the air. At least Dave made up for it right afterwards, covering his exposed ass with his still clothed hips, grinding against him as he began kidding up the toned stomach and chest.

He could see this in movie angles, camera zooms, better lighting and angles. Maybe a catchy musical number in the background instead of the usual overzealous moans and cheap 80’s music. Even if this man was not the Dirk he knew, Dave knew enough that he deserved better than that. Even for the sake of a cheap joke, irony, whatever you wanted to call it, he deserved better than that. 

It would be far too similar to putting his own lover into something that trashy for others to see.

Fuck that noise. This was art.

The way his skin reddened when bit, how he jumped when his ass was slapped, those hypnotic orange eyes in the low light, pointed shades already long gone. The grinding was pure poetry for two sweaty guys fighting each other for sex on a narrow bed, and it only got better when Dave pulled back to get more rope.

While the main tie holding his wrists in place was moved, the perfect red rope cuffs were not, leaving Dirk to marvel at them even as he was being stripped the rest of the way bare, pushed and shoved certain ways so he could do his knot magic on muscled calves and thighs. The knots bound him into a kneeling position, feet comfortably behind him, riding up his sides and lower back. Every gorgeous curve was being accentuated, the eye drawn to it. If he couldn’t make this into a movie, by god, he’d make it art somehow. With this attractive of a canvas, how could he resist?

By the time Dave was done, standing back to admire his handiwork, Dirk had been rolled onto his front, feet joining his ass in the air, legs spread. His hands had been rebound behind his back, wrists along the lower edge of his hips, resting. He was cheeky, tossing his head to peer over his shoulder, wiggling as much as he was able to, making the ropes creak lightly at the knots.

There was no more fighting, except with mouths and tongues. No more struggle for dominance as Dave uncapped the lube and slicked himself up, smoothed some along Bro’s entrance. They would be doing this bareback. Life was too fucking short, and like Hell was he going to treat this man like a total stranger. Not when there was something, somehow, that linked him perfectly to his own lover. Dirk seemed to feel the same way, refusing prep work, just warning him to ‘take your fuckin’ time and not split my ass in half’.

Bracing himself, Dave did just that, slowly guiding himself in as Bro hissed and moaned. He didn’t complain when he went a little too fast, seemed to go a more notable shade of red when he winced. Wanting to test this theory, Dave paused, rocked his hips a few times to spread the lube he’d already applied a little more inside Dirk, before pulling most of the way out.

“Hey, what’s the big ide-JESUS FUCK.”

Mid complaint, Dave had slammed his hips home, burying himself to the base and freezing as Dirk cursed and moaned, slowly beginning to rock and rotate his hips after the complaining had died down. Still no demands for him to stop, no chastising him for the sudden move. 

That was permission enough.

Gripping at the knots he’d tied earlier, Dave began rocking his hips faster, harder, steadily building up a tempo until he was slamming himself into Dirk. His back arched, sweat beading at his forehead from the exertion of trying to make this man utter a certain sound. His body called for him, knew him, needed him. But Dave needed proof. He needed to hear it.

“Ahh..! H-hah… Haaa… Dave…”

Almost. He was so close to saying it, he just needed to do it a different way. He pleaded in his mind as he continued to thrust, hoping. Please. Please. PLEASE.

“Oh God.. I. FUCK, YES. Dave, c’mon, don’t stop!”

His voice had risen with desperation, molten eyes looking over his shoulder from the twisted position he was in, body shaking. That was it. That look of total abandonment, enjoyment, caught up in his thrall. It was enough to send him over the edge, crazed, slamming his hips forward over and over till the numbness in his spine finally overtook him.

Dave didn’t pull out when he came, too overcome, too caught up in possessing Dirk. Taking his everything. A long hand grasped at Dirk’s dick as he leaned heavily on his back, tugging him in long, slow strokes. Milking at him till he yelled in complaint, cussing at him for taking too long, choking on his breath when he sped up suddenly. 

An hour later, Dave had let Bro loose from his bindings. They had both showered in boiling water, stayed in far too long, make out against the side of the stall. Dirk had gotten to show how talented he was with shower blowjobs, as well as standing sex, pinning that narrow body against the tile, returning the favors from earlier with a quick slick of soap and a lot of patience to draw it out with. 

Two hours later they were resting with their legs intertwined, hands clasped together, watching each other’s faces. They spoke of many things. Of where they grew up, of similarities and differences. They talked about their lovers, explained the ghosts of who they loved. Who they fought for. Who they longed to find again.

When they both disintegrated, the game glitching, sending them elsewhere in time and space, it was with a smile. The last thing they remembered was the others eyes, how they were right but wrong. They remembered stale cigarette smoke and old whiskey, hot water and smooth skin, red ropes binding yielding flesh.

Never would they forget the brief flash of alternate Heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> Original tumblr post- http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/33674360175/alternate-heaven


End file.
